The Campaign Builder's Guild

This is for an online (VTT) game I'm going to join using the Palladium Fantasy setting adapted to GURPS mechanics. (Good way to get some experience actually gaming the system before running it and learning my way around the MapTools VTT environment.) The character's race (Kankoran) is a sapient, bipedal canine (fox-like) race which lives in a pretty primitive manner in the far northern wilderness; druidism is their primary religion. OOC notes to the GM are included afterward here for a glimpse into GURPS mechanics. This is one of those pieces where the story took over once I began writing and I'm sharing it here primarily because I think it's an engaging piece of fiction;hope you like it.



Moonstripe was named Chews His Tail (which he still does under great stress,) as a kit. A little smaller than most of the Stone Runner tribe, he was known for both his vivid imagination and penchant for playing pranks upon those around him '" most of which reflected the first trait and tended to leave his victims more confused as to their purpose than inconvenience them. In the spring of his 13th year he embarked upon his Rite of Passage, descending from his tribal home in the northernmost reaches of the Shattered Mountains to spend the summer alone in the forest below. He found a comfortable grove near a mountain fed stream filled with trout and decided to camp there while exploring the region.


At first he thought that his imagination was simply running away with him as he watched the dancing shadows and moonbeams at night; soon finding himself lost in reverie only to come out of it with a start to realize that the moon had set, or in later nights, it's light no longer visible in the rays of the rising sun. But by the time of the first new moon he found himself exhausted in the day and unable to remain awake until nightfall. With the moon's first crescent he found the pattern beginning once more. Tired and hungry he resorted to hunting nocturnal creatures before or after the moon had risen or set, or fishing at twilight, half asleep, when the moon was not in the sky. But so long as her light shown in the sky, no matter how faint, or even hidden by clouds, he seemed unable to resist its inexorable pull upon him. While unaffected, he began to search for signs of Faerie Folk or their magic, finding none, only to fall into a trance once more, or fall asleep at the sun's rising. Hunting fae rather than prey, he was soon starving, yet felt unable to break the cycle. Staggering and exhausted, he moved his camp again and again in the darkness, seeking desperately for a place in which he could hide from the moon. Still, every night he found himself lost in trance once more, beset by strange visions, from joyful to terrifying, which he could remember afterwards no more clearly the the swiftly fading shreds of a dream.


He began to sing the songs of his tribe to himself, struggling to overcome the compulsion. This seemed to help briefly, but consumed by the shear mental effort of this, he could do nothing else and still, before the night was old, succumbed once more to his growing lunacy. He dug a trench encircling his camp and built a barrier of Faerie Thorn branches within it, gradually raising this until it was eventually a dome completely covering his camp, first singing what songs he new, then as they failed, falling into almost atavistic yelps and cries like the fox he so closely resembled. These gradually evolved into a chant of sorts; a seeming nonsense litany of growls and barks, rising to a howling crescendo as he danced within his enclosure. This nightly ritual began to grant him some release, though he was still beset by incomprehensible "visions" playing themselves out upon the edges of his awareness. He could at least resist the fascination of the moon's glamour, maintaining his awareness throughout the duration of its relentless onslaught, but he had only replaced one trance with another, more exhausting one. In the twilight he began to see what appeared to be some sort of symbols scratched into the now bare earth of his little redoubt by his feet during his nightly dances, and with a staff cut from the trunk of Faerie Thorn sapling he deepened the furrows, inscribing a pattern of symbolic dance steps upon the ground. He hardened the end of the staff in his meager fire and mixed the soot from it with the fat from a hare he had killed to make a crude black paint with which he marked the symbols upon his fur.


After the last moon of summer, when the autumn air was growing crisp and cold, he knew that if this continued he could not survive the winter where and as he was; he would have to somehow manage the journey back to his village or die in the stark white of the moonlit snows. Upon the new moon then, he gathered as much food as he could and set out once more up into the mountains. Each night he staggered onward, half starved and stumbling through his dance, each step a terrible struggle against the beckoning pull of the moonlight he could no longer hide from, only to sleep exhausted through the day wrapped in the skins of his tent he was too tired to even pitch above him. He began to realize both that he was surely easy prey for any hungry beast to follow and take in his near oblivion and that, surprisingly, nothing stalked him save the relentless moon the whole while, as if even the most fearsome monsters of the wilderness dared not hunt the quarry which one even greater had claimed as its own. The trek, which should have taken no more than a moon dragged on through the first snows of a second and into the storms of a third. The brief northern autumn came to an abrupt end upon the night of the third full moon as the night's storm became a blizzard. Certain that he had lost his way long before, he struggled onward but the snow was soon to deep for him to dance and the wind too cold for him to open his mouth to, so his chant died upon his raw and bleeding lips. Soon he knew nothing but his steps, one frozen foot after another and an eerie silver light illuminating the swirling snows before him. Entranced, he followed helplessly as the impossible moonbeams drew him ever onward through the night. When the faint ghost of dawn began to push its way through the clouds at his back, somewhere in the terrified recesses of his mind he knew that he had indeed lost his way, yet still he staggered westward through a long and unfamiliar mountain valley, wanting only to sink to the cold earth and let his agony end while his feet continued their ceaseless march regardless.


Somehow, with no more control over his mouth and voice than he could exert upon his legs and feet, he found himself chanting once more. It was the song that he had instinctively composed and sung through his journey, yet somehow it flowed differently, pouring forth from his throat with a strength and power he had never given it, howling louder than the winds which raged about him. Just as he knew the sun was rising behind, he knew as well that he had finally gone completely mad. The clouds in the western sky parted briefly and in the shimmering light of the full moon he saw at the head of the valley before him the familiar circle of tents of his tribe's village blanketed in the snow. All seemed asleep still, save for the bent, ancient figure of Night Vixen, the Crone of the Stone Runner tribe standing outside of her tent and staring down the valley with her blind eyes. With a last, thunderous howl, his legs finally gave way and he sank into the warm comfort of snow's embrace. He felt as much as heard his being filled with sparkling, silver laughter and knew no more.


OOC:

His totem is Moon (or some sort of lunar spirit) and she scared the living shit out of him - he's got a lot of work to do to come to terms. (Disads: Lunacy [-10]; Discipline of Faith: Mysticism [-10]; Nightmares (12 or less) [-5] - repeat the visions, but whether "joyful or terrifying" they still scare the hell out of him; and Quirk - Habit: avoids, or covers his head in, the moonlight.) as well as Habit: chews on his tail under stress. The Lunacy I don't see him buying off so much as ultimately purchasing related Advantages/Powers - the moon should always affect him (though he may buy down the resistance roll for when he really needs to) and he once he actually embraces his totem he wouldn't want to change that - he would simply "come into his power" as it were. Just for an initial idea/spark I copied an old Shadowrun edition totem spirit entry; some of it seems very fitting. His name ("Stripe" evidently meaning scar in Kankoran parlance) comes from the distinct white streak of fur running up hiz muzzle to end in a crescent shaped (two horns up) patch on his forehead. He only tolerates his mentor using it though and goes by Talks With Rocks (i.e., foolish non-Kankoran), saying it refers to his tribal heritage. . . He shows aspects of the Advantages: Close to Heaven (read Nature) 1 [5]; Medium [10]; Spirit Empathy [10]; and Perks: Autotrance and Penetrating Voice. (Current Dis/Ads = 0 sum.) From here then he next goes on to become a druid acolyte. . .




MOON

Characteristics: The Moon is changeable and secretive. She

sees much from her high vantage point, but her vision is not

as clear as that of Sun. She keeps many secrets and may

hide much from prying eyes. Moon is also the great

transformer, ever changing, unknowable.

Favored Environment: Wild places, far away from civilization,

or the hidden comers of the city.

Advantages: +2 dice for manipulation and illusion spells, +1

die for detection spells, +2 dice for conjuring water spirits.

Disadvantages: A Moon shaman always takes the subtle

approach. She must make a Willpower (4) Test in order to

engage in direct confrontation. Negotiation is not considered

confrontation (she loves discussion), but arguments do fall

into that category. She suffers a -1 die modifier for combat

spells. The Moon shaman prefers to keep a low profile and

act through subterfuge.

He awoke feeling hungrier than he had in weeks,and more rested as well he quickly realized, but too weak to do more than stir beneath the skins which were piled upon him. 'Be still, Moonscar,' he heard Night Vixen's raspy whisper nearby. 'You've had a difficult birthing.' Confused, he tried to sit up and see where he was but found Night Vixen standing over him, holding him down with one gnarled paw far more easily than he would have thought possible. 'Lie still Moonscar! I'll bring you some food shortly.' More confused, he managed to look about for his family, but found himself in a strange tent, alone with Night Vixen. The Stone Runner's Crone had never shown sign of dotage, but he could only guess that she now mistook him for another, perhaps her mate, dead many winter's before he was born. 'Who are you talking to Grandmother? I'm Chews His Tail. . .' his voice trailed to silence in the sound of her barking laughter. 'I'm not senile yet child, it is you who is having trouble perceiving reality. Not surprising really, dying does that to you and it doesn't get any easier no matter how many times you do it.' Clearly sensing his start at her words she was again standing over him, one bony finger upon his forehead making him cross-eyed as he tried to look at it. 'Yes, Chews His Tail is dead. Froze to death in the blizzard two weeks ago. Moon-mad he was, dancing through the night up and down the valley since the last new moon, howling like a great snowwolf spirit and frightening even the wyverns from their peaks above. His parents have burned his weapons and sung his spirit through the sky to our ancestors in the dark of the moon. You are Moonscar, my son, as this declares clearly to all.' With these last words she drew her claw down his muzzle suddenly, like an icy knife that left his nose watery and burning and caused him to shiver uncontrollably beneath the pile of pacca skins covering him.

Through the winter Night Vixen nursed Moonscar back to physical health. The wounds within him proved harder to heal however. While he recovered from his cold injuries quickly and the bandages on his paws where removed in a few days, the bandage which Night Vixen had wrapped around the bare and bloody end of his tail was usually in tatters by the time he awoke each evening from him worrying at it with his teeth while he tossed and whimpered in his sleep. Though his dreams troubled and at times even terrified him he still grew more cheerful and gregarious, showing signs of his old curiosity returning during the first week or so. However, even though he remained inside venturing out of the tent to relieve himself only in the evening and morning while the sun was in the sky, as the moon grew full once more he became more volatile and irritable, as well as more fearful upon first awakening.

Night Vixen's suspicions were confirmed on the night of the full moon. Moonscar had lain awake, trembling beneath his sleeping skins and speaking little for a couple of hours. Finally, unable to remain any longer, he had ventured outside into the woodline well after the sun had set. She had stood outside of her tent, watching with blind eyes that saw more in the dark than any in the tribe could at high noon, as, concealed by low clouds, the moon rose over the mouth of the valley. Moonscar was returning, crossing the clearing as swiftly as he could when the clouds parted and the bright orb shone forth as if springing upon him from its hiding place. Caught in the open he froze, looking about in panic, but with a heart wrenching howl of terror saw there was nowhere to hide. Crying wordlessly he cowered low to the ground, desperately trying to dig with his forepaws in the frozen earth. Night Vixen covered him with her cloak and carried his slight body back inside as he clung tightly to her fur, trembling uncontrollably. He wouldn't loosen his grip until well after the sun had risen once more nor speak a word before he awoke the following evening.

'Mother Night, what is wrong with me?' he growled as he sat up. Uncertain whether he was addressing her or her totem, Night Vixen reached out to touch his forehead as she whispered, 'Nothing little one.' With a snarl he snapped at her extended paw only to receive a stinging slap upon his nose. 'Enough of that! The moon has filled your head with dreams and now you would fight me as well as them. It is time you learned to listen to both. Go out for now, the sun is setting. You can break your fast when you return.' Half coaxing, half wrestling, she eventually managed to get him out of the tent, though not without snapping his ears with her fingers more than once at his snarling and barking sharply, 'You mind your tone now; you're a kit no longer!'

Sullen, he stalked outside where many of his tribe were still about in the fading winter light. The others, even his former parents and siblings, treated him much like a stranger now, glancing discretely at him with what seemed as much awe, or perhaps fear, as curiosity. Even the fearless Chases Butterflies (whom, no matter what Night Vixen said, he still viewed as his little sister,) approached him quite timidly as he was returning from the wood. She held out a bundle to him, saying shyly, 'They say this how you wear it now,' before scampering away. Confused, he unrolled the skins she had given him to find a heavy winter cloak, cowled and collared about the shoulders and lined with snow hare's fur like many were. The hide was well oiled, tanned in a random mottle of browns with the pelt on the inside for warmth. These could also be worn the other way around when stalking winter game in the open so as to blend into the snow field. Oddly though, the fur of the collar had been reversed, to lie outside when worn while the rest lay within for warmth. He began to growl softly, thinking it was meant to represent the moon, but fortunately Chases Butterflies was already out of hearing. Only Night Vixen regularly wore her cloak with the fur to the outside, though hers was collared with sable and he had often seen her wear only the collar about her neck and shoulders, stark against her own pelt, now long since white as the winter fox. He had always thought the sable collar referred to her spirit ally whom she was named after.

She was wearing it about her bony shoulders as he entered the tent. 'She may be right. We'll see,' she said cryptically as she handed him a bowl of stew. 'Put it aside for now. We'll know if you have the courage to become a druid or not before you need to travel again. . .' Struck dumb with surprise and more confused than ever, Moonscar ate in impatient silence while Night Vixen stared at him all the while. Her eyes, normally as white as her fur, looked as black as her collar in the dim light cast by her cooking fire, the tiny flames of which danced like stars in their endless depths.


OOC: Notes on process (cuz I'm a writer and I often wonder where concepts arise from for others and how go about developing them. . .)

I've been using a lot of terms of animal anatomy deliberately, even though the Kankoran are no more beasts than humans. Primarily it helps me to think in terms that are *other than human,* and hopefully present them in a way that doesn't just seem like humans who look foxes. I do get the feeling that they (and to a lesser degree the Wolfen) are more conscious of, and comfortable with, the fact that they *are* canines than humans seem willing to acknowledge kinship with other primates.

Death and rebirth are classic elements of many shamanic initiations, as is near-death from sickness or accident. (See "Black Elk Speaks" regarding the great spiritual leader's own near fatal illness as a child.) When I read the first post aloud to my fiance, she was rather non-plussed, "I thought it was about a rite of passage, not just someone dying young. . ." The last sentance does have a rather final tone to it, but I realized as I thought about it that I was very okay with that - it seemed quite fitting. So I went with the idea; he may well have flatlined in the storm and been brought back a frozen corpse. Resuscitating such is certainly not unheard of, but the key point is that in the eyes of his tribe he *really did die*. Night Vixen's implied adoption of the foundling Moonscar could be viewed as unusual (though not surprising for a druid/shaman/mystic) or as a very traditional expression of the tribe's recognition of such a major change - far beyond the typical transition of a Rite of Passage into adulthood. As her own totem is Night, a parental relationship with a young shaman whose totem is Moon seemed to obvious and appropriate to leave out, though she will have to pass him to another to train further. However, I wasn't really conscious of any of this until I started writing it. Again, once into the second paragraph or so the story begins to take over.

For reference re: the whole thing about the collars, see my recent thread about Druidry.

Finally, my Soundtrack: while writing tonight. . . (And no, I certainly haven't abandoned *that* thread, just trying to juggle multiple writing undertakings. . .)

While Night Vixen knew that Moonscar needed to learn to trust his ally and listen to her council it was clear that this would never happen before he had learned to control his fear. Over time he would have to learn further to ride upon the tide of his emotions rather than be swept away by them. First however, it was obvious that he must acquire the stability of both the mental focus and the self discipline his future studies would require. From full moon to new she sat patiently with him every night so long as the moon was in the sky, gently directing his attention back to his breathing whenever it strayed. As the moon waned he grew less restless but continued having difficulty keeping focused, often asking irritably, 'What's the use?' She began asking him to describe his dreams when his attention drifted, which at first he had great difficulty doing. She couldn't be certain whether his reluctance was to speak of them or to remember them at all, but he would quickly return to his breathing regardless.

As the nights progressed however he began to relate a little of them. It appeared that they always began and concluded with the moon rising and setting over a great green and gold tree that towered far above the surrounding forest canopy. At times he dreamed of battles between their Wolven cousins and the Furless, but he could never seem to tell which was which, the sides seemed to change between one race and the other in constantly shifting light and shadows. Watching from the shadows often could be discerned the faces of both Coyle and Dagangi, sometimes laughing, sometimes screaming in hatred, urging the battle on, yet ever shifting from one to the other, like the appearance of the combatants themselves. He dreamed of great fires raging through the forests, yet leaving the trees and creatures alive in their wake as grotesque, twisted aberrations which fell upon each other, seeking to devour everything around them but multiplying as they were rent asunder rather than being consumed. Rarely it seemed, he saw instead the forest at peace, Canine, Furless and Dagangi all gathered together in the sacred groves, the various Stone Crawlers among them as well, with the same mighty tree ever visible in the distance. At most he wept furtively, frequently snarling and snapping his words as he spoke, but when he described these last he could hardly speak at all, his slight frame wracked with great sobs he could no more hide than the scars upon his face.

Over the course of the winter Moonscar regained his former weight and strength. Walking in the forest on moonless nights with Night Vixen, she showed him the practices by which she had retained her own vigor long after others would have been bent over with age, at times wrestling with him in secret, far from prying eyes. He soon learned that he was no match for the crone's speed, agility and uncanny senses. She could dodge and roll out of his reach with ease, while he fell flat upon his belly, stumbling in the dark over some unseen stone or root. When he didn't stumble she instead threw him to the ground, only to disappear into the shadows before he could raise himself once more. Gradually he learned to tumble and roll rather than fall and to sense his footing upon the unseen terrain, but could never get a grasp of his teacher no matter how quickly he recovered from her throws.

His meditation improved rapidly, he clearly had a knack for it, and soon he needed to merely cross his eyes to look at the tip of his nose and his breathing immediately settled, slow and deep, calming his frequent agitation. As his recall of his dreams improved, so that he could readily relate the details of them upon waking, she began to question him during their night time walks about the things around him instead. Not only what he saw, but what he heard and smelled, the feel of the wind upon his fur and its taste upon his tongue. She had him mimic the sounds of the nocturnal creatures, the creaking of the trees in the night breezes and even the distant roar of the heavy snows when they crashed down the mountainsides above the valley. Whenever his imitations where the slightest bit off she made him stand in silence and listen once more, then repeat his attempts, correcting any errors he had made again and again until both his listening and his impersonations could discern and reflect the faintest detail and nuance. Then she questioned him about what he sensed; what an animal was doing when he heard it make a particular sound, what would follow when the wind was moist or dry, or tasted of frost and why the hare was more cautious when the breeze smelled of pine. On moonlit nights they sat in her tent and he listened in his trance while she spoke of the dance of earth and air, the play of fire and water, the warm and freezing embrace of water and earth he knew so well. . .

She told him of the spirits that populated the unseen world about them, those of animals and trees, wind and stream, the still and mighty forest chieftains, silent mountain guardians and the mother-spirit of the valley where their tribe had made its winter camp. She knew he could sense these about him and sometimes hear their whispering, but the deep fear which his first experience with Moon had left in his heart prevented him from conversing with them. She spoke of Night and Twilight, Moon and Sun, Thunder, Storm and Sea whom he might someday meet. Most of all, interwoven throughout her stories, she spoke of the Great Sacred Web of All Things and how there was nothing that could exist which was not part of Nature's Web and therefore Sacred, though some might grow straight and holy while others, violated by the spirits of Poison, Greed and many others, grew into twisted and sickened aberrations and abominations. Further, she made it clear that there was nothing which could not be healed, but likewise nothing which could not be perverted.

As the winter wore on and game grew scarce she had him assist her in some of the rituals he had seen or heard of before. He saw how she could seek outward and find game in the night which others would hunt in the early morning. Later he even assisted her in the Blessing of the Hunt, preparing and tending the great fire then drumming during the ritual's height. For this she had him wear for the first time the new cloak which Chases Butterflies had gifted him.

Soon afterwards other gifts were laid outside the door of Night Vixen's tent. A new long bow and quiver full of Yellow Wood arrows dyed to green with the pulp of dark blue laden berries and fletched with snow goose feathers, a Yellow Wood staff and a long knife of napped blackstone mounted on the spiraled ebony spike of a nauga's horn (the slick, waterproof hide of which he was certain had been used to make the quiver and the bow's wrap). Even with these new tokens of his tribe's esteem they rarely spoke more than a few words to him, uncertain how to approach one who had returned from the dead.

Not long after the first thaw, when the trees in the forest below were beginning to show their first green once more, Night Vixen caught an old but familiar scent upon the wind she hadn't smelled since she had returned to the Stone Runner tribe as a young Druid. Bundling quickly in her cloak she told Moonscar to feed the tiny cookfire carefully, one twig at a time from the small pile beside him and watch it closely as he did so, then slipped out into the moonlight. The sharp night breeze was blowing down the valley and she followed it upward toward the western pass. Soon she heard the quiet stride of a tall wilderness runner descending the wooded slope and awaited his approach in a clearing. A minute later the steps froze a stone's throw from her and the night was silent for the space of many breaths. 'Night Vixen? I thought no more to see you now so long past.' He spoke her tongue poorly, in the Wolven dialect but with the strange, lilting accent of the Dagangi, and like his people, sounded as if he'd aged not at all in the nearly thirty winters since they both had trained with their Wolven Mentor, Dark Sky. 'Mother Night told me to watch for you Star Walker. My son has been touched by Moon's heavy hand and the Tree calls to him.'


OOC: He's at least got an entry into the basics now - The Five Roots of Metaphysics, Meditation, Observation, Acrobatics (the hard way) and an intro to Religious Ritual. He should be stable enough to travel again under an experienced Druid's care soon, though his Lunacy is very much in evidence. Points to anyone catching the very unDruidic gear reference. I just couldn't help myself. Must be the new moon. Yeah, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. . .

Soundtrack: South Park "It's Time For a (Sports Training) Montage", Concrete Blonde, "Mojave" and more Native Radio 7 cuz I'm just in that kinda mood lately.

They talked well into the night sharing both of their lives since they'd last seen each other and what news they'd gathered of the world around them and the spirits they communed with. Star Walker warned her of the clouds of war gathering around the northern coast and beside the Great River to the south, of the growing disturbance and distrust among his own people and the Furless and the increasing raids of her Wolven and Coyle cousins; news he was carrying to his own Shabet who dwelt in the cliffs above the higher, hidden western valleys. She told him of Moonscar's dreams which seemed to reflect these things and the young Kankoran's hurt and fear which she now comprehended much better. 'My son needs to learn more than I can teach him. I have neither the knowledge nor the time left me to impart it to him. Though Mother Night is typically silent in the matter, it is clear that Her daughter has plans for him and seeks his willing aid. Will you teach him in my stead then? I think his path leads through the world about our mountains. Our tribe, even his former family, fears him nearly as much as he fears Moon. I hope that someday he'll return to his people, but I'm sure that I'll feel the silent embrace of Night's final mystery long before then. If you will take him under your tutelage I will ensure that he is prepared to travel upon your return at new Moon.'

The tall Danzi shaman stood silent for some time; his white cloak billowed and fluttered in the wind, making it's black cowl and fringed hems dance like shadows in the moonlight until he replied. 'Dark and dangerous my path Big Sister, a new Limb on the Tree; we call this Way of the Web. Hesitate to set a young one upon it. Yet, or none can give light to its tangled weave, and Moon it is She led my feet to you this tonight. So yes, new moon, your son and I walk it from here. I lope away now, Night wanes,' and the shadows swallowed him up in their stillness.

When Night Vixen entered her tent Moonscar was placing the last twig upon their tiny fire and the pungent scent of cedar soon filled the little space. She questioned him until morning as to how they had burned, which hot, which smoky, which crackled and made him repeat their sounds. She was pleased to see that he had indeed paid close attention and even recognized the medicine for which some were used to fumigate a tent to clear out the muzzle and lungs, the heart or head, or even aberrant spirits which might have taken dwelling within a home or its inhabitants.

The next night she told Moonscar, 'It is time for you to start venturing out into the moonlight once more. I know it is difficult for you, but you are ready to face your ally once more, and soon you must journey down into the Great Wood to find your Path.' Wrapped in their cloaks the two went outside to await the moonrise. 'Mother, why do I need to leave? There will be no one to take your place among the Stone Runner when you are gone; I thought that is why you are teaching me. . .'

'There is little more that I can impart, for that you need another who knows the Ways of the Tree better than I. Perhaps someday Moon will guide you back to our people but the night wind has brought me news of larger matters of which I think you already know but do not yet understand. This much is clear; if the forest is lost our mountains  must eventually follow. You must go away for now if you hope to ever find your people again. On the new moon you will go with my little brother Star Walker and you must be ready to travel by then. He is one of the Dagangi, but unlike his people he does not hate the Coursers for the old battles between our nations. We trained together upon the Invisible Way under Grandfather Dark Sky, an ancient Lupine who was greatly respected by all in the Western Wood when I my coat was still red.

'Is that why you have brought the Stone Runners to winter camp so close to the Dagangi Cliffs, Mother?'

'Perhaps. Night did not say when she told me to bring them here, but she does not explain herself or her mysteries. I think at least Moon will be more forthcoming with you, despite how she may play tricks upon your vision. . .'

They sat through the night outside her tent, saying little more. For his part Moonscar was consumed by the effort of focusing his mind to still his fear in the silver light. What Night Vixen occupied her thoughts with he never knew.

Over the remaining fortnight they spent their nights outside, gradually walking longer and longer in the moonlight as Moonscar struggled to control his desire to hide himself from the moon's light. Word had clearly spread among the Stone Runner, as each evening Moonscar awoke to find new gifts from his tribe outside Night Vixen's tent to make ready for his trek: a hunter's tent and pack, a stout hide stew pot and water bladder, fletching tools and the sturdy horn of a young nauga, wrapped with leather and sinew for knapping stone, a bone needle and gut sewing kit and other things that he would need.

Night Vixen continued to question him about the activities of the creatures around them as well as the whispers of the spirits they could often sense just beyond sight and sound. It was soon apparent that Fox and Lynx were watching them closely, as well as Opossum and Weasel and the ever present Owl and Bat who followed Night Vixen where ever she went. Although it made him uneasy to do so, Moonscar found that if he looked and listened with what Night Vixen called his 'real eyes and ears' he could perceive them quite readily. For the time however, they seemed to have little to say to him but, like the trees and stones, merely watched him in silence, albeit with great interest.

The new moon came all to soon and the two set out near midnight for their rendezvous. Of the Stone Runner, only Chases Butterflies could be seen, waiting outside the tent with tears in her eyes. She reached up to hug his neck, a pendant of stream polished moonstone adorned with culver feathers on a leather thong dangling from her paws. She placed this over his head and clung to him tightly whispering, 'Because the wood pigeon can always find its way home. . .' before nipping his muzzle quickly and darting off. His departure was far from unseen however, for as they stepped into the dark beneath the trees the entire camp erupted in the night call of his people.

 OOC: Soundtrack: Radio Free UrLand

When they arrived at the glade Star Walker was already there waiting for them. Moonscar had never seen anyone so tall or with eyes so startling, dark as night but filled with tiny silver flecks that seemed to shine on their own in the deep shadows. 'We speak as we trace, to be far under pass by morning,' was all he said to them. 'I will course with you to the pass then,' Night Vixen replied and the three set off at a pace which surprised Moonscar even more than his new companion's appearance. The fabled speed of the Dagangi proved quite real and he found it easiest to break into a gentle lope to keep up with Star Walker's long stride while Night Vixen trotted easily between and slightly behind them.

Along the way Star Walker told them in his terse fashion of his time among his Shabet,  who lived within the high cliffs of the Shattered Mountains. 'Remembering old Wolf fights they trust not. Poison spirits stalk the Great Wood, hungry for all nations. Stone Clan Shazni-Kratos dreams of sweet smelling pitcher plants like trees and listens. Trees eat Wolves too, but remembers Wolf fights Wolf, dark and pale; not enough. Move Little Wolves' camp soon, Big Sister, to keep peace of Stone Nations.'

They reached the pass quickly enough and paused to say goodbye. Night Vixen nipped Moonscar's ears for emphasis as she whispered one last bit of counsel, 'Not all Coursers are your friends and not all Furless are your enemies. Unfortunately, it will often be up to you to prove it to them.' From her cloak she drew a small pouch of soft hare's hide which appeared to be turned with the fur on the inside. She handed it to him saying, 'This will be of more use to you than it has been to me in many years. . .,' and nipped his muzzle affectionately before walking away quickly the way they had come. Inside the pouch Moonscar could feel a hard disk like a very flat bowl about the size of his palm, but had no time to examine her gift further.

Star Walker and Moonscar made good time down the mountainside before pitching camp in the morning. Conversation was slight during their journey, primarily consisting of Star Walker asking Moonscar simply what he saw or heard and Moonscar answering with equal brevity. Moonscar noted that Star Walker pointed at things by pursing his lips, much like Coursers did with their muzzles though they could not imitate this particular gesture. Moonscar had never met any Dagangi, the tribes of both people tended to avoid each other in their wanderings, but all of the Furless he had encountered pointed at things by extending their long, skinny fingers as if pronouncing a curse upon the thing they were indicating. Once during the night Star Walker stopped and asked Moonscar what he smelled. When Moonscar replied, 'Only pine,' Star Walker changed their course for a while, following a low ridge line across the wind before heading downward once more.

They stopped at the mouth of a small valley shortly after sunrise. After dropping his pack Moonscar started to walk to the trees but Star Walker said, 'Wait.' He was digging through his own pack and pulled out a small leather flask from which he took a small sip before handing it to Moonscar. 'One sip, you smell bigger and meaner.  Make camp first. . .' Curious, Moonscar sniffed the flask which gave off a strong, acrid and unfamiliar odor. He took a sip, grimacing not so much at the taste as at the sharp pungency filling his sinuses as he swallowed the viscous brew and handed the flask back, wondering what good having bad breath would do. By the time their tents were pitched and their gear stowed Moonscar's bladder was ready to burst, and as the two circled the camp, marking the area, he understood the potion's purpose. He couldn't identify the creature his urine smelled like, but was quite certain that he would give its territory wide berth should he ever encounter its scent. Certain of the camp's safety and exhausted by the night's trek he quickly fell asleep.

He awoke shortly after sunset feeling as if he'd hardly slept. Star Walker was already awake and preparing a breakfast of herb broth fortified with dried meat boiled in it. Although it smelled quite savory Moonscar felt little appetite and ate rather slowly and mechanically. As they broke their fast Star Walker asked him what he had dreamed. Moonscar answered somewhat reluctantly, describing almost by rote the nightmares which continued to trouble him. Star Walker questioned him little as he related the visions now so familiar to Night Vixen, merely nodding thoughtfully at times. 'Perhaps as you find the sense of these you sleep better, perhaps worse,' was all he said when Moonscar was done, but he appeared to consider the dreams to be a serious matter even though he gave no indication as to what import they conveyed to him.

They spent the next two nights traveling likewise, descending rapidly from the Broken Mountains into the Great Forest below. Shortly before the second sunrise Star Walker paused in their journey to climb a rocky outcrop, indicating with a sideways nod of his head that Moonscar should follow. Reaching the top he found the taciturn Dagangi gazing out to the south across the forest canopy along the western edge of the mountains and as he stood beside him Star Walker tilted his head and pointed with his lips into the distance. It took a moment for Moonscar to realize where he was pointing and a minute or more to recognize what as his mind struggled to assimilate what he thought should have been impossible. Nearly a hundred miles due south towered a tree so large it was clearly visible from where they stood. Further, by its color it was clearly a broadleaf tree with a crown such as should only be seen at the height of summer, even though now only the conifers around it were green while the other broadleafs, their sap just beginning to rise, were not yet even in bud. Rising hundreds of feet above the surrounding treetops and easily half a mile wide, Moonscar stared dumbstruck upon a living legend. He had heard stories of The Tree of Life, planted when the world was born, but had never thought to actually see it standing. As he looked upon its majesty he felt a growing sense of recognition and familiarity far deeper than the memories of childhood stories around the winter fires. Puzzled, he looked up to find Star Walker watching him intently. Nodding conspiratorially, 'You dream true,' was all his new mentor said, with a sly wink. 'Is that where we're going?' Moonscar asked. 'Yes. Not yet,' was the enigmatic reply as Star Walker turned and climbed down as quickly as he'd ascended.

It wasn't until they had reached the Great Forest below that Moonscar remembered Night Vixen's gift. After spreading his bedroll one morning he dug the pouch from his pack and opened it to find a small convex mirror of highly polished obsidian. Cradling it gently in his forepaws he gazed into the shallow bowl and was startled to see the moon's waxing crescent reflected over his shoulder. Even more startling was the realization that this didn't disturb him the way that viewing the moon directly always did. He continued to gaze at it calmly for a while, allowing himself to sink into the slow, deep breathing of his meditation, simply looking at the moon for the first time in many months until Star Walker's voice interrupted his reverie. 'Reflections of reflections. What is real and what really frightens you? This you must find.' With that the Dagangi entered his own tent and wrapped himself in his blanket.

Over the next couple of months the two wandered gradually westward, as far as the easternmost point of the Inland Sea before moving southward when the trees had reached full leaf. Along the way they camped briefly at times with others who wandered the Great Forest, Shabets of the Dagangi who greeted Star Walker gladly but treated Moonscar with great wariness at best but with no worse than cold indifference under his mentor's sponsorship, a few Wolfen 'hunting lodges' where their welcome was somewhat reversed (though Star Walker was not unknown, and at least respected for the memory of his own mentor, Dark Sky), and once with a small band of Furless hunters and trappers heading toward Northolme.

Throughout their travels Star Walker often questioned Moonscar much as Night Vixen had, but often his questions also directed Moonscar's attention to things around them which he wanted Moonscar to to observe more closely '" particularly when encountering other travelers. Between such encounters however Moonscar soon learned that they were rarely, if ever, alone for the woods were filled with spirits, some watching over particular places and areas, whom Star Walker taught him to greet with courtesy as a guest might his host, and others which seemed to travel with them for a time, some appearing again and again which Star Walker treated as friends and companions little different than had they been corporeal. The pair remained mostly nocturnal in their habits, and so many of the animal spirits which most frequently sought their company were likewise. It was often from these that Star Walker learned of other travelers close by, whether to greet or to shun, as when a pair of hungry ogres had been noted a mile or so noted upstream from their camp one evening. Perceiving these spirits directly still made Moonscar uneasy, but he found that for what ever reason, as with the moon, if he looked at them in the mirror Night Vixen had given him  he felt no anxiety. By summer it seemed that most of the spirits inhabiting the Western Forest had come to know of him as Looks Behind.

Moonscar gradually came to realize that Star Walker was much more talkative than he had first thought. While clearly disliking idle chatter (which Squirrel seemed to take great joy in pestering him with), he was in fact a very thoughtful conversationalist, albeit rather terse in his manner of speaking. Moonscar slowly began to discern that often this terseness actually conveyed multiple levels of meaning in what Star Walker said and frequently hid a subtle, wry sense of humor as well which delighted Moonscar once he began to grasp his mentor's wit. By autumn, when both had learned to communicate easily past their differences in dialect, it was not uncommon for Moonscar to catch one of his mentor's jokes in the midst of his lessons and toss it back at him so that both collapsed in howling fits of laughter.

Along with his continued grappling practice, Star Walker began to spar with him with staff and spear. Like Night Vixen, he demonstrated an acute awareness of the terrain around him and beneath his feet which he utilized to full advantage so that the forest itself often seemed his companion-at-arms. He called this style of combat 'Forest Floor,' and constantly reminded Moonscar (usually with the end of his staff,) to 'remember that the ground is his ally.' He always began and ended their sparing sessions with meditation and emphasized that Moonscar needed to continue his centered breathing whether sitting or fighting (or any other activity) in order to remain calm and alert. It was this awareness which allowed druid fighters to move in response to circumstances like the 'Wind Through the Trees.' This was what he called the greater martial art which encompassed both Forest Floor and the higher forms of Forest Crown practiced by the few remaining wilderness guardians. Once Moonscar grasped the basics of the weapon forms however, Star Walker rarely used a weapon while sparing with him. Instead he began to teach him how to use his weapons and the terrain to ward off attempts to engage in brawling grapples, often pointing out the ways in which various predators, both bestial and monstrous, would attack their prey and how best to defend against these far more common threats.

Through late summer and early autumn they traveled eastward once more near the edges of the Furless settlements along the Great River. They entered these only rarely, where the strange pair encountered both great curiosity and at times equally great distrust. Among the Furless it seemed that Star Walker drew even more notice than Moonscar; evidently his people  were no more than a legend and to actually see one of the Danzi (these Humans used the same word as they did,) was rather unheard of. Even more so however, the sight of a Dagangi and Kankoran together was something unimaginable to them. Nevertheless, they were not entirely unwelcome as there were other druids living in the area who knew Star Walker and the cloaks they wore permitted them at least unhindered, if sometimes begrudged, passage.

Whenever they encountered others, whether scouts, travelers or in settlements, Star Walker made a point of conversing with those who were willing. He would discuss things he had observed, whether it was the movements of game in the area, changes in the weather or the passage of other travelers, depending upon his gossip-mate, and gradually draw them out so that they would openly share much about their own observations and activities which he would never have been able to ask directly. In this subtle and skillful  manner he invariably learned more than he shared himself and over time it became quite evident to Moonscar that Star Walker in fact knew far more of the goings-on in the region than any they met, including those scouts whose business it was to learn of such matters.

As fall wore on they could see the Shattered Mountains once more in the distance and  turned northward, traveling with greater urgency and the mountain range always over their right shoulders. Encounters with Furless travelers during the next month grew more frequent, these moving southward mostly, traveling to the Great River from the pair's destination '" a small town near the foothills called Ygdrassil.

Over the course of their forest circuit Moonscar had picked up a smattering of Dagangi from Star Walker '" mostly profanity that seemed to consist primarily of lurid references to anatomically impossible acts of self abuse which his mentor invariably shrugged off as simply Danzi expressions for 'priest.' He gathered a bit more however listening intently on the occasions they camped with various Dagangi shabets traveling through the area. Later he garnered even more of the Furless' speech as they traversed the forest's southern region and then traveled northward. That winter Moonscar was able to hone his human tongue to a passable level of communication, although many of the inhabitants of Ygdrassil made it more difficult than was necessary. It was well past midwinter before he was able to grasp what was meant by the words, always from just outside the range of his vision, 'Dancy boy and his pet Kanker sore. . .' These were only a few, consistently distinct voices however, and the Furless evidently had no clue as to what it meant to be able to move one's ears. Still, it was nearly spring before Moonscar realized that the speakers weren't priests.

As it turned out, the few priests in the town harbored far less animosity toward Star Walker than he (and the Dagangi as a whole) did toward them. Since nearly everyone living in Ygdrassil belonged to the temple (dedicated to the same Northern Gods whom many Wolfen worshipped), Star Walker was the closest thing to a resident druid the town actually had, even though he only spent the winter months there. While he was away during traveling weather there were often numerous other druids passing through the town however, and sometimes one or two of these might stay the winter as well. The great Tree of Life stood less than a hundred miles to the north and could be seen clearly from a nearby hilltop. This was in fact the very reason for the town's existence, but Moonscar learned that in spite of it's proximity and unbelievable size, it proved nearly impossible for any who searched for it to actually find. When he asked Star Walker about this his mentor replied, 'The Tree welcomes who it chooses. When you're ready it will call you; until then no trail will take you there.'

They stayed in a small cabin with three other Dagangi who lived in the town, making their living among the Furless hunting and trapping for skins and occasionally hiring out as guides during the traveling seasons. Star Walker evidently relied upon them for much of the information he gathered about activities in the locale and they spent long hours discussing events and who had passed through during the summer. For his part, Moonscar was absorbed in his studies, memorizing many new rituals and the symbols used in them, drawn upon the ground or upon the branches burnt during them. The rituals, Star Walker told him, were more difficult to perform in the town than out in the forest but learning them under such conditions helped ensure that he could perform them unaided when needed. Like the tribal rituals in which he had assisted Night Vixen, these took considerable time and preparation to perform. Many of these lay beyond Moonscar's ability and he learned by assisting Star Walker as well. Still, by springtime he could alter his appearance for a few minutes to appear as a passable Furless cub or enchant a lapwing, magpie or owl's feather to briefly make small deceptions and misdirections more believable. Once he even managed to fill the small lodge with a thick fog which quickly dissipated. Like Star Walker's tent, the inside of which was covered with painted symbols and images, a small corner of the cabin near the cooking hearth was also prepared for ritual purposes, although the signs of this were kept concealed by the occupants when not needed. Over the course of these studies Moonscar gradually decorated his tent much like Star Walker's as he learned to prepare ritual space.

When not absorbed in his studies Moonscar accompanied their hosts on hunting forays in the surrounding woods. They, like him, seemed to pay particular attention to the various boot tracks traversing the region in addition to the spoor of their four legged prey. As the winter wore on he was able to identify most of the specific prints left by those in town who likewise pursued the winter game and knew the trap-lines which they followed, including the few in particular he had been watching for. While honoring the routes of most of those who provided the settlement with needed meat, he set out some evenings on his own and established a circuit of snares himself, ranging from small hare snares to larger paca, nauga and deer traps which he checked regularly. Just after first thaw, as expected, elk herds which had foraged around the lower streams and salt licks to the south began to move through the area toward the foot hills and he set a few very large snares near the game trails in carefully selected spots. Each of these took an entire night to complete, bending two or three of the largest pine saplings he could manage and staking out the meticulously concealed loops of taut, braided gut. They worked very well, initially capturing a couple of young calves and a nursing doe, which he released, as well as two bulls he brought in with the help of his hosts. The following week however, the mastery of his traps became clear to the town as a whole when a handful of other woodsman had to be cut down by their companions while they were out checking their own lines. Given that everyone so embarrassed was well known to his neighbors as a braggart and bully afforded them little sympathy in the face of the town's amusement at their discomfiture.

The following spring the pair set out northward once more, following the mountain range into the reached of the forest where the shabets of the Dagangi wandered most commonly. By now their relationship was rather widely known  and Moonscar's reception, though still far from warm displayed much greater trust than previously. His ability to speak their language, albeit poorly, helped further and he was able to glean at least some of the matters which concerned these wandering tribes. The animosity between the Furless to the south and the Wolfen to the north continued to disturb the region.

{The following spring the pair set out northward once more, following the mountain range into the reached of the forest where the shabets of the Dagangi wandered most commonly. By now their relationship was rather widely known and Moonscar's reception, though still far from warm displayed much greater trust than previously. His ability to speak their language, albeit poorly, helped further and he was able to glean at least some of the matters which concerned these wandering tribes. The animosity between the Furless to the south and the Wolfen to the north continued to disturb the region and the Furless garrison cities out on the coast were increasingly on edge.} For their part, the Dagangi preferred to simply be left alone and distrusted the Furless too, though less than the Wolfen, and didn't welcome their scouts and patrols in the forest.

The disturbances seemed to be concentrated however in the northern reaches of the Eastern Forest and Star Walker decided to look into this further. While he said little to Moonscar of his plans and reasons, it was clear that he found much of the news he received among the Shabets that spring very unsettling. He increasingly sent Moonscar to liase with the Wolfen scouts posted in the various hunting lodges along their course and Moonscar suspected that he was even searching these out. For his own part, Moonscar put what he had learned to good use and was able to gain far more information of goings on in the area than he found it necessary to share in order to gain the knowledge. As a result they were able to avoid Coyle bands and patrols which seemed to be likewise more numerous this year than previously and divert on a couple of occasions the travels of Dagangi Shabets which would have otherwise resulted in bloody encounters with those patrols.

By the time the trees were in full leaf they could see the easternmost reaches of the Bruu-Ga-Belimar Mountains to the northwest from a high vantage point and began to travel with much greater caution than usual. Reports of Coyle and raiders and human patrols in the area were not uncommon and to make matters worse it seemed that the most common Dagangi clan in the region harbored a deep hatred for all Coursers which Star Walker was unsure he could he could shield his acolyte from should they encounter any shabets of the E'Dehko. Imperial hunting lodges were more common, and heavily manned as well, though it appeared that patrols tended to stay on the move between them rather than remaining in one place where the E'Dehko might mass against them. Often they would scout out such lodges in the evening, and if manned, in the morning Moonscar would perform rituals to obscure the distinctive markings on his face and enchant his Liar's Feathers, then approach the lodge alone while StarWalker remained in hiding nearby. For the sake of his safety the scouts were nearly always glad to inform him of any Furless and Dagangi movements to avoid in the area and he would likewise tell them of any he had heard of, though being vague or misleading as to the actual locations of any small enough for the Wolfen patrols to attack.

They moved carefully westward, learning all they could, reaching the small Furless settlement of Sweet Creek just before midsummer. Knowing in advance that many of the inhabitants would view Moonscar as an enemy, he stayed behind while Star Walker reconnoitered the town. After spending a good portion of the day conversing with the town's druid Star Walker returned, slept for the remainder of the afternoon then set out southward at dusk. Of what he had learned, he simply said that it was best for the two of them to seek more hospitable territory and was clearly somewhat troubled.

Traveling into the heart of the Eastern Forest the Wolfen hunting lodges were left behind, so they sought out instead the scattered Kanokoran tribes and Dagangi, ever careful to direct the two races away from each other. Furless hunters and explorers were more common here than in the Western Forest but still unusual and just as cautious of them. Those druids they managed to find with the help of the forest spirits however were much more frequently Furless than any other race. Observing their conversations with others it became increasingly evident to Moonscar that Star Walker, and the Great Forest's druids in general, were quite concerned with the brewing troubles between the Furless Dominion and the Wolfen Empire, but appeared to be pursuing an agenda of their own, separate from their various races and tribal allegiances. Most significantly, Moonscar noted that regardless of what information Star Walker might share with others whom they encountered throughout their wanderings, he never spoke a single word regarding the great Tree of Life in the presence of anyone (corporeal) not in white robes or black.

Throughout this summer Moonscar's studies focused much more upon dealing with the spirits around them. Star Walker clearly relied upon them a great deal in navigating the  dense and dangerous forest, both to locate other travelers and to avoid many of the region's hazards. Whenever the two camped alone Star Walker still behaved quite explicitly as a guest, seeking welcome in the home of the forest spirits rather than the camps of others. While both Kankoran and Dagangi tribes regularly honored the spirits of nature in such a fashion as they traveled, (this was a large part of Night Vixen's role among the Stone Runner,) Star Walker taught him by example to conduct himself thus on a much more constant, deeper and personal level. While his discomfort conversing directly with the spirits subsided, Moonscar still preferred to do so in the smoking mirror which Night Vixen had gifted him.

As in the west, he became well known both to the spirits in the Eastern Forest and those druids who treated with them as Looks Behind, a name he would evidently carry through his life, but like his tribal name, chose to keep private. When dealing with any others he took to introducing himself as Talks To Rocks, an odd moniker which raised many eyebrows but few chose to question. (Whenever someone did ask why he was so named he would reply wryly, 'Because I do it all the time. . .') He learned further rituals for calling upon spirits who weren't present should the need so arise, as well as the means to defend against and banish hostile spirits. Upon encountering the remains of a Furless hunting party which had met with catastrophe, Star Walker also taught him to lay to rest the spirits of the dead when they remained behind in the world they should have left. These he could not perceive like those of nature, but could summon them forth in a similar manner should he believe them to be present. While he found these rituals very unsettling, he was again able to deal with the spirits more easily by using his mirror.